


The Mix-Up

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Castiel is Not Oblivious, Charming Castiel, Embarrassed Dean, First Day of School, First Meetings, Fluff and Humor, Freshman Sam, Geology, High School, High School Student Castiel, High School Student Dean, High School Student Sam, Humor, M/M, Senior Castiel, Senior Dean, Teacher Amara, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 09:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11917857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: He wishes he had a book on him—not to read, but to bury his face in. They know he’s not supposed to be here. What interest would Dean Winchester, the mechanical engineer, take in the environment when he’s the one helping people spit out more pollution?“Castiel Novak.”“Here,” responds an incredibly raspy voice.Dean quirks an eyebrow. When he turns his head, all his thoughts about hot cheerleaders go completely out the window.





	The Mix-Up

**Author's Note:**

> My thoughts go out to those braving Hurricane Harvey. Stay safe, everyone.
> 
> I’m actually taking Geology this semester, so that’s what this fic was inspired by.  
> And this prompt I found on prompts-for-the-opt.tumblr.com (I changed it from the OTP to the brothers, since they have the same last name):
> 
> Prompt 128  
> Person A and Person B meet when A accidentally takes B’s class schedule on the first day of school because they have the same/similar names. Awkwardness and hilarity ensue.

 

"Really, Sam, Geology?"

"Really? You're knocking my favorite subjects when you're taking... are my eyes still spotty from the eclipse or does that say _Cheer_?!"

"Cheer is a dignified sport, okay?"

"Maybe for the girls," Sam scoffs. "Knowing you, you'll _beg_ to be on the bottom of the pyramid just so you can look up their skirts."

 _Actually,_ it’s so he can show off his stuff in those red gym shorts he kept from freshman year that are little tighter than they need to be so they properly showcase his glutes. (That, and ever since trying on women’s panties from Rhonda Hurley’s closet in sophomore year, he hasn’t gone back to loose-fitting anything. But God forbid his little brother knows that.) "So you _do_ acknowledge girls,” Dean says. “So why are you taking Geology when you could be hanging out with hot chicks instead?”

"Dean, I'm surprised."

"What?” Dean asks, “Why?”

"You know who teaches Geology, don't you?"

Dean narrows his eyes. "No, who?"

"Miss Shurley. As in—"

"Brunette Bombshell Shurley?”

No wonder Sam said it's a full class. All the male students are interested in taking from that class is how to burn through her ozone layer (and by that, Dean means her tough persona, because boy has he heard some stories). As a seventeen-year-old boy, Dean will admit, he's caught himself doing a double-take when she passes in the hall, because despite that, she’s kinda hot. But word in the hall is she's slept with a few students, so if she tries anything on Sam… well, let’s just say Dean will lose his engineering scholarship to the University of Michigan.

"I'll give you that one," Dean says, "but this should still be salted and burned if you ever wanna get laid."

With that, he snatches Sam's schedule and holds it above his head—perks of being the taller sibling. (Barely. It’s amazing how fast they grow up.) Sam waves his arms trying to reach it like he's trying out for the flag team; so in essence, Dean is doing him a favor.

But finally, he smarts up, crossing his arms in annoyance. "Dean, I don't have time for this."

"Fine," Dean submits, handing it back to him as the warning bell rings, "but only because I'm gonna be late too. We're gonna talk about this later."

Sam rolls his eyes and snatches the paper from his brother's hands. "You're an idiot."

"You're a bitch."

"Jerk."

Dean smiles and pushes Sam lightly, but not before sweeping his long brown hair in a quick, fluid motion. "Good luck. Don't get beaten up, nerd."

"Don't beat up anyone," Sam counters.

"Who knows," Dean yells as he starts to jog off, "maybe I'll meet the love of my life in first period!"

Sam laughs as he starts to do the same, "Yeah, right! Just don’t fall on your ass!"

 

 

Dean knows there’s something wrong when he walks into Cheer.

For one, he’s not in a gym locker. The teacher must be an eco-friendly freak because there’s nothing but “Save the Planet” posters lining the classroom wall, which is ironic, considering the poster that greeted him when he first walked in was an infographic about different kinds of natural disasters.

Secondly, the girls aren’t in short skirts and shell tops—the latter of which is very disappointing since it’s the _one_ thing Dean’s been looking forward to this semester. He actually woke up this morning at six with a smile on his face. That’s _not_ normal for him.

The door opens, quieting everyone’s excited chatter. Dean’s mouth drops. In walks Brunette Bombshell Shurley, the Geography teacher with a wild hair.

_Holy sh—_

“Good morning,” she greets with a thin smile, interrupting Dean’s panicking thought. She has a clipboard in one hand she sets on the podium in the front, using the other to pluck the reading glasses that wear like a headband, sitting atop her tightly curled brown hair. “I’m Miss Shurley, your instructor. I’ll start with roll call, so be ready to respond or I won’t hesitate to mark you absent, got it? Good. Garth Fitzgerald…”

“The fourth,” Garth chimes. “Garth Fitzgerald the IV. And here, Miss Shurley.”

Miss Shurley drops her head to glare at Garth through her glasses.

The chatter starts to pick up after that—it’s quieter with Miss Uptight in the room, but it’s still there. Kids point at Dean, trading confused expressions quicker than chewing gum. Some laugh in response, others shrug. Either way, Dean bites his lip, sinking into his desk a little. He wishes he had a book on him—not to read, but to bury his face in. They know he’s not supposed to be here. What interest would Dean Winchester, the mechanical engineer, take in the environment when he’s the one helping people spit out more pollution?

“Castiel Novak.”

“Here,” responds an incredibly raspy voice.

Dean quirks an eyebrow. When he turns his head, all his thoughts about hot cheerleaders go completely out the window.

Dean’s known he’s had a bit of a thing for guys since freshman year when they took his graduating class into the gymnasium to watch a middle-aged guy penned “Dr. Sexy” with a full crop of dark hair and cowboy boots explain how sexy it is to ask for consent.

Dean also discovered not only does he have a consent kink, but a _huge_ cowboy one too—especially _doctor_ cowboys.

But this guy, this Castiel, he’s even higher up on the totem pole of attraction. His voice is something out of a PornHub exclusive package, contrary to his Yosemite blue eyes (he saw it on one of the posters) fit for the cover of a softcore adult paperback. His square chin frames his plush pink lips, and his neck goes on seemingly for miles, even with the short u-neck green shirt he’s wearing underneath an open red hoodie—much like all his hair, except that’s separated into smaller lengths for an overall messy spike, but the quantity is outstanding.

Dean doesn’t realize a puddle of drool forming on his bottom lip until Miss Shurley calls for a Sam Winchester. “Oh, uh, here!” Dean chirps up, forcibly breaking his gaze. Before she can put her pen to the paper, Dean adds, “Well, I mean, sort of. I’m not…”

 _Great._ Even more incentive for the whole class to stare at him, including Castiel. He scratches his neck. Like a game of Mad Libs, he’s trying to think of something, anything to fill in the blank.

“It’s the first day of school,” Castiel blurts, to Dean’s surprise. “What Sam means is he’s physically here, but mentally speaking, he’s in his bed, sleeping through his alarm.”

Luckily, the class is too busy humming in agreeance to focus on Dean, because Castiel winks from across the room, so he’s blushing hardcore.

“Alright, alright,” Miss Shurley says, “I still have ten more people to get through before we can learn that the earth is actually _not_ spherical—you can thank your shitty education system for both those things—so settle down. Charlie Bradbury…”

 

 

Dean’s standing outside his fake first period, closing his text to Sam about the schedule mix-up after glancing up to see Castiel walking out.

“Hey!” Castiel stops and turns to meet his eyes and Dean can’t remember if he had something he planned to say and completely forgot, or he had nothing in the first place. “Um… thank you.” _Good start. Elaborate. “_ For sticking up for me, I guess. I’m not actually Sam, though.  I mean, I’m a Winchester. That much is obvious by all the flannel.

“We’re kinda famous for that. Sam used to wear hoodies like you, but he grew out of them—I mean literally, the kid is growing like a weed. Sometimes I purposely replace his morning Wheaties with Frosted Flakes so he’ll stop. But come to think of it, I actually don’t really know the difference nutritionally between the two…” _Stop talking._

Castiel laughs, both to his relief and fear as he unveils a gummy smile. He’s a little bit shorter than Dean, but not any less intimidating because of his hotness. “You’re welcome, _Dean.”_

“I... how did you know?”

“I know Sam,” he replies, “he’s in my Bible Study on Thursdays. He mentions you a lot.”

Dean tilts his head. “I didn’t know Sam was in Bible Study.”

“Oh yeah, he usually starts off the readings. He’s like a natural-born leader.”

Dean huffs a laugh. He’s never been religious himself, especially when things like natural disasters exist, so he just assumes since he and his brother are blood related that Sam felt the same way. “Fair enough. But if you know my brother, why did you lie for me? I’ll eventually have to leave the class.”

“Honestly?” Castiel asks, drawing his bottom lip before he answers, “I wanted to keep you around. I think you’re amusing. And really hot.”

“Ah,” Dean replies ever-so eloquently as he waits for his heart to catch up, and _yeah,_ that’s definitely another blush he feels coming on. Then another laugh escapes him, this one giddier, “Okay. Um… again, fair enough. Especially since I started to do the same for the same reason.”

Castiel shakes his head, stepping a little closer, smile not leaving his face. “Well, what do you suppose we do to fix us not seeing each other again?”

“Are you hinting at me asking you out?”

Castiel shrugs. “I mean, if that’s how you wanna take it…”

“Okay,” Dean laughs, “um, Castiel… do you wanna go on a date with me?”

“Yes. On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Promise me you’ll find the right restaurant,” he replies, grinning. “I don’t wanna be stood up.”

 

 **BONUS:** _Sam in Cheer_

“Your hair is gorgeous,” Sarah Blake comments out of one of the three girls, all upperclassmen, touching Sam’s hair.

“What shampoo do you use?” Amelia asks. “If it’s not animal tested, I’ll totally invest in it.”

“It’s like cotton candy,” Ruby adds.

Sam grins. Dean’s not getting his schedule back until the end of the day, at least.


End file.
